


Panicking

by adrianthefrick



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Asexual Character, Asexual Relationship, Auror Harry Potter, Bourbon-Mint Tea, Breakfast, Chinese Food, Cooking, Draco Malfoy has an Eating Disorder, Draco Malfoy is a Good Friend, Draco and Hermione are Best Friends(tm), Drunk Harry, Eating Disorders, F/F, Good Draco Malfoy, Harry Gets a Cold, Harry Potter Being an Idiot, Harry Potter Has Issues, Harry Potter doesn't know how to talk about wine, Harry Potter is a poet now, Harry Potter is oblivious, Healer Draco Malfoy, Healer Harry Potter, Hermione and Harry are very touchy and confuse everyone else, Hermione is Cuddly, Hermione makes Harry take care of himself, I refuse, Luna and Ginny have a Baby, M/M, Magical Cooking, Muggle Television, No I Do Not Explain How, Number Twelve Grimmauld Place, Pansy Falls for Hermione REAL Fast, Pizza, Pizza and Chinese Food, Pregnant Luna Lovegood, Scorpius birthday party, Scorpius is 7 and Harry didn't know he existed, St Mungo's Hospital, Wandless Magic, Wine, but we knew that already, draco malfoy is a Good Dad, drinking wine, mint - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-11
Updated: 2021-03-17
Packaged: 2021-03-18 15:01:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 5,709
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29984628
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/adrianthefrick/pseuds/adrianthefrick
Summary: Harry lives with Hermione.Draco lives with Scorpius.Harry and Draco struggle through mental health together and end up falling in love in the process.
Relationships: Blaise Zabini/Neville Longbottom (mentioned), Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter, Hermione Granger/Pansy Parkinson, Luna Lovegood/Ginny Weasley
Comments: 3
Kudos: 16





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I'm so bad at tagging, I'm sorry.  
> I also THINK I got the number of chapters right but I guess we'll find out when we get to the end.  
> No beta reader, either, I post and suffer and die like a man.  
> I'm from California but I tried so, so hard to make things sound British - please tell me if I messed that up.  
> I have seen "Harry" and "Hermione" and "Draco" so many times that I keep thinking I spelled them wrong. I wish I was kidding.  
> There's a bit of heavy language in here, no slurs. There's some drinking and some bad feelings, but nothing you'd find in a trigger warning.

**“‘Mione?”** Harry calls into the house meekly. “You here?” He sets his bag down next to the door, hanging his coat on the rack and undoing the top button on his collar. “I need… tea,” he shakes his head, stepping into the sitting room and staring with a blank, half-believing look in his eyes. “‘Mione?” he asks, even quieter.

Hermione looks up at Harry with wide eyes, the cup of tea in her hands halfway between her lips and the table. “Oh, Harry. You’re home early,” she returns her face to a neutral state and sets the cup down on the coffee table.

“Yeah…” Harry can’t help but focus on the head of silver hair and the shoulders covered in a black tee-shirt sitting on the couch across from Hermione. “You didn’t tell me you were expecting anyone.”

“It was a last-minute call,” there’s a clink of another cup setting onto the table. The silver-haired man stands up and turns to harry. “Potter,” he says with a slight nod of his head.

“Malfoy,” Harry said, his voice strikingly calm.

“I'll be off, then,” Malfoy reaches for the jacket draped over the arm of the couch.

“No, you can stay. I’ll make myself some tea then I'll go to my room. enjoy your tea,” Harry turns to the kitchen and walks into the door.

“Sit down, Draco, I’ll be right back. I'd like to make sure he’s alright,” Hermione’s voice is soft and friendly, which feels odd to Harry, given who she’s talking to.

Harry was already heating water, staring at the kettle. His mind was obviously elsewhere, his fingers fidgeting in his pockets.

“Harry?” Hermione calls softly from the doorway. “What happened, darling?”

“Nothing,” he shakes his head, reaching one hand up to rub his eyes. “Sorry. I’ll be off after I make tea,” he blinks slowly, pulling a mug down from the counter. He pulls the small mint plant from the window, pulling off a few leaves and tearing them into the mug.

“Harry, darling, please don’t drink bourbon tea tonight,” Hermione's voice is still soft, but the friendly tone has been replaced with a worried one. “You have work tomorrow.”

“I had a bad day. I’ll drink one cup, then replace it with plain tea,” he sighs, pouring the boiling water over the leaves. He stares into the cup as the leaves swirl slowly, setting the kettle back down on the base. “I’ll be fine. No hangover.”

“Do you need anything else? Anything at all, darling?” Hermione sets a hand on Harry's shoulder. Harry shakes his head. “Alright… I’ll just be here when…  _ if _ you need me, okay?” She kisses the side of his head gently before walking out of the kitchen to Malfoy again.

Harry adds bourbon - the cheap stuff - to his mug, cradling it in both hands as he makes his way up to his bedroom. He stares at the floor and thinks so hard about  _ not _ thinking about Hermione and Malfoy sitting together that he isn’t really sure if it’s better or not.

He sits on the floor in the middle of his room, sipping the bourbon-mint tea slowly. it tastes familiar. It tastes like bad nights, bad feelings. It tastes like waking up from a nightmare to retch out his stomach onto the floor.

_ It tastes like Hell. _

Harry's beginning to wonder if that’s why he likes it so much.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi! A mention of alcohol leftover from chapter 1, but no real TWs or CWs!

Harry wakes up on the floor in the middle of his room, too. His breath smells like bourbon through his mouth, but it smells like mint through his nose. He can’t tell which one he hates more right now.

At least his head doesn’t hurt. That’s all he was asking for. He makes his way across the hall to the bathroom with his robe set over his arm. It’s empty, as he expected. Almost clinically clean, smelling of mint. Everything smells like mint.

He takes a slow slower. He doesn’t spend his time on much, but he sits on the stool in the tub and lets the scalding water turn to warm, then warm to nothing. Harry liked it better when it hurt.

Wrapped in naught but his robe, Harry makes it back into his room to pick up the mug before he goes downstairs.

Hermione is in the kitchen, making some sort of breakfast. Harry skipped dinner and he can feel the beginning of nausea curling in his gut.

“Hey, ‘Mione,” he says softly, wrapping his arms around her and pressing his face into his neck.

“You smell like mint,” she says softly, setting her hands atop his.

“You say that every morning,” he mumbles.

“Oh-” he says as he walks through the door. “Sorry,” Malfoy turns back and the door closes.

“He stayed?” Harry sighs, pressing his face closer.

“Mhm,” Hermione hums, pulling her arms away to continue cooking the eggs and sausage on the countertop. “We talked until morning and I let him stay in a spare room.”

“Okay,” Harry closes his eyes. “I’m not hungry anyway,” he says, but his stomach groans in protest. “My stomach hurts.”

“Yeah, I’d suspect as much, you didn’t eat any dinner. Does your head hurt, too?” With a flick of her wrist, the fridge opens, and out flies the containers of milk and apple juice. Orange doesn’t go well with mint.

“No,” he says softly, fidgeting with the hem of her shirt. “I thought it was going to. But it doesn’t.”

“That’s good, then. Would you be a doll and set the table for me?”

Harry hums, taking a deep breath - she smells like mint - before he steps back, sits at the table, and waves his hands to bring out plates and cups. He waves his hands again and a fork and a knife join each of the sets.

“Thank you, darling,” Hermione says softly. “Are you dressed?” She gives a slight glance to his bare legs. “Please put some clothes on before we start eating.”

Harry sighs but gets up again, trudging upstairs. He manages to pull on pants, then black joggers, then a white tee shirt. His hair is dry on the outside but his scalp feels cold and wet. He picks up his wand to cast a drying spell, not caring enough to glance into the mirror.

When he sits back at the table again, Draco is sitting there, too. Hermione sets two large platters down, one filled with scrambled eggs and one filled with sausages.

“I suppose I should have asked if you eat meat,” she sits with a hesitant smile.

“Oh, it’s no worry. I have minimal food aversions,” Malfoy gives a polite smile.

“Then please, serve yourself. You’re our guest,” she smiles, sitting and scooting her chair closer to the table.

He looks hesitant. No matter what he feels, he loads his plate about half full.

Harry notices his jaw and his cheekbones are more sculpted than they were at the end of school. his eyes are sunken and he’s impossibly paler than before, too. If Harry wasn’t so upset in the first place, he’d worry for the man. He can’t bring himself to feel upset for other people before he can worry through his own upset, though.

Hermione follows Draco, then Harry. He almost gets away with not putting eggs on his plate, but he catches Hermione's glare and changes his mind.

They eat quietly.

The food tastes happy. It tastes like a good morning, followed by an average day of work, followed by Ron or Ginny and Luna or Neville staying for dinner and laughing with them until they can’t keep their eyes open anymore, falling asleep together in front of the furnace.

The thought makes Harry's eyes water. Draco gives Hermione a concerned look, but she just shakes her head. He drops it and turns back to his food.

Harry finishes first. He cleans his plate silently and sets it on the drying rack, leaving the kitchen to return to his room. He lays on his side in his bed, too tired to get up but too awake to do anything else.

Hermione knocks on his door about ten minutes after he lays down. “Harry? Are you decent? I’m coming in,” she opens the door, not pausing between questions and declarations.

Harry looks up at her, his eyes still full of tears. “Did he go home?” He whispers.

“Yeah, darling. Draco apparated home,” she says softly.

“Oh, fuck, ‘Mione,” Harry sobs.

She immediately rushes and sits next to him, pulling his heavier frame into her lap. “I’m so sorry, Harry. You’re alright now. I'm here, darling, you’re safe.

He chokes out another sob as he wraps his arms around her then cries silently into her shoulder. She had pulled her hair back out of her face or he’d be suffocating in it.

“She was,” he gasps for air. “She was there.”

“Who, baby?” She coos, running her fingers soothingly through his hair. “Who did you see?”

“Petunia,” he gasps again, struggling to breathe.

“Oh, darling. Breathe with me, okay?”

Harry chokes on his own breath for a second before he attempts to match his breaths to Hermione’s. It takes him a full minute. Then he takes two full breaths before he can’t breathe again. Another two minutes before his breathing is solid enough. Hermione’s heartstrings are being tugged back and forth but there’s nothing she can do except breathe with him. Hold him.

He eventually gets it. He focuses enough on his breathing that he falls asleep. Hermione tucks him into his sheets, then his heavier blankets, sitting there and petting his hair until she falls asleep against the headboard.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hi this one is upsettingly short, oops. Minimal language warning but no other CWs or TWs.

Harry wakes up an hour later. His head aches from crying but he realizes he’s made both himself and Hermione late for work and forgets all about what was making him upset.

When he wakes Hermione, she smiles and kisses his forehead. “Would you like to stay home today?” She asks, her voice as soft as it always is when he’s like this.

“No, I have meetings today. Shit, ‘Mione, mind stepping out so I can get dressed?” He runs stressed hands through his hair, blunt nails scratching his scalp in a surprisingly satisfying way.

“Of course,” she nods, climbing off the bed and walking to the door. “Tell me if you need anything, okay?”

Harry nods, turning to get himself ready for work.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this felt better when i thought it was all going to be one chapter lmao


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This one's... also short. Mention of alcohol but nothing dangerous and no one getting drunk and spilling their guts (metaphorically or physically). No other CWs or TWs.

The day is average. Followed the breakfast as expected.

No one’s coming over tonight.

Until Malfoy’s at the door with a bottle of expensive wine that Harry feels like he shouldn’t even be allowed to hold. Malfoy smiles when he’s invited in, claiming the wine is in return for breakfast.

Hermione happily sips the wine, talking with Malfoy about it in words Harry can’t even pretend to comprehend.

The wine tastes like wine.

He can’t tell why it’s more expensive.

He likes seeing Hermione happy. He doesn’t let himself think about how he likes seeing Malfoy happy.

The issue isn’t that he’s a boy. But it’s Malfoy. He’s not allowed to think about Malfoy. He doesn’t like that thought, though. He should be allowed to think.

Malfoy drinks considerably slower than both of them. It’s weird. Harry remembers him drinking more than anyone else in eighth year. He also remembers him differently.

Then he says it.

_ Scorpius. _

Harry blinks out of his daze, looking up at Malfoy. “Sorry, who?” He asks in the most polite tone he can manage.

“My son, Scorpius,” Draco says slowly, carefully.

“Oh. I'm sorry, I haven't read the papers much lately.”

“He’s almost seven, Harry. Draco is talking about his upcoming party. were you not paying attention?” She gives him a knowing smile.

“No, I’m sorry. Hh, long day at work. I’m a bit out of it,” he stares down into his cup.

“It’s alright, Potter. I understand,” Draco nods, sipping from his own cup. Harry glances up and notices the slight wince when he swallows the drink.

“Continue, then, Draco,” Hermione smiles.

Today, she smells like cinnamon.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Grammarly screamed at me the entire time I was writing this and it's still screaming at me now.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Oh boy.  
> This one's short, too, but no CW or TWs.

“Why is Malfoy always here?” Harry asks Hermione one Sunday afternoon. They’re laying on the couch in pajamas, Hermione between Harry's legs reading a book. Harry can’t recall what he was doing.  
“He's been over four times, Harry,” she turns the page.  
“In two weeks. that’s a lot,” he sighs, closing his eyes. “Sorry. He just… he looks different.”  
“Yes, well, he’s grown up. He had a child. I’m excited to meet Scorpius, he sounds… wonderful. I hope he isn’t as menacing as Draco certainly was at his age.”  
“Oh, Merlin, imagine,” Harry smiles. Today, his lips feel normal. Yesterday, he smiled, and they felt foreign. Like they were someone else’s. He had to remind himself that they’re his.  
Hermione laughs, sliding her bookmark into place and setting the book on the edge of the coffee table.  
“You’re coming with me, of course.”  
“I’m doing what now?”  
“To Scorpius’ party. Draco said he read about you in the paper and fell in love with you. Then he said that it’s not in a weird way, of course,” she smiles and closes her eyes, leaning her head back against Harry’s chest.  
“If people ask if we’re dating I’m going to say yes.”  
“Harry, the amount of times I’ve almost hexed your balls off is too high to put into words. This time, I promise you that I will do it,” she says in a loving voice.  
“You sound like Luna.”  
“Luna doesn’t hex people, darling.”  
“No, your voice. It sounds like love.”  
“Tell me more,” she smiles, fidgeting with her sleeves.  
“Mm,” he hums quietly. “Sounds like a rainy morning in April. When you sit at the window and you listen and you feel like the world is telling you that it loves you. The world wants you to be happy.”  
“Now who sounds like Luna?” She laughs softly.  
“Your laugh sounds like honey. On the same morning. Honey on toast that you’ve burnt your fingers on. But it’s a good day, and you’re happy, and the world loves you, so you laugh. Because it doesn’t hurt for long. And now you have toast, and everything is okay.”  
“Harry?” Hermione calls softly. Harry almost doesn’t hear it, traveling to his own world.  
“Yes?”  
“I love you,” she says softly.  
“I know,” he smiles.  
“Quoting Han Solo is another way to get your balls hexed off.”  
“I love you too, you dork,” he laughs, wrapping her arms around her. It’s awkward, and his arms are practically cradling her chest, but awkward is what makes him love her, and her, love him. It’s what’s kept their friendship alive through everything.  
“Luna said she’s coming over tomorrow.”  
“Oh? Is she bringing Ginny?”  
“No, Ginny has a game.”  
“Why isn’t Luna going to the game?” He hums, playing with her sleeve, too.  
“She said she has news.” There’s a sparkle in her eye, Harry can feel it. he wishes he could see it. It’s a wonderful look on her.  
“Ah,” he smiles. “Sounds wonderful. Well, for tonight, I propose we order food and eat until we can’t eat anymore.”  
“That sounds wonderful. You call the pizza shop, I'll go pick up Chinese food. Noodles and rice and chicken. Whichever one sounds the oddest.”  
Their favorite Chinese take-out shop has two different special chicken meals a week. Honestly, they’re the same recipes each time, but with different names that have gotten progressively weirder over the years, Harry and Hermione have lived together.  
“That sounds perfect, ‘Mione.”  
They sit there for another three minutes (and twelve seconds. Harry was counting.) before Hermione gets up and grabs her bag to go pick up food.  
Harry makes his way to his phone, calling the closest pizza shop.  
Half an hour later, Hermione is shoveling rice into her mouth. Harry is messily eating pizza - his shirt is already stained with paint and blood. Pizza sauce is nothing it can’t handle. Probably nothing new, either, but he can’t remember.  
Hermione is happy. Harry is happy.  
Their positivity is each thriving off of the other’s. If someone was to look at them, they’d be sure to see a glow surrounding them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading!  
> So, it turns out, there are 16 chapters, not 13. Oops.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hello! Thank you for being here :)  
> This one's a little longer and I'm very excited about it. Minor language warning but no real CWs or TWs.

“‘Mione? You good?” Harry says, knocking on the bathroom door.

“Yes, I'm sorry,” she calls back. “You know the drill.”

“Oh, of course. just making sure,” Harry nods, then blinks when he realizes Hermione can’t see it. He retreats back to his room where he was trying to finish paperwork before Luna got there.

As he tucked the papers neatly away into their files, he hears a knock on the door.

“Coming!” He calls, but Hermione was already downstairs and had opened the door.

The hug they shared was at an awkward angle and full of giggles. Harry didn’t understand why until Hermione turned to him.

“You’re finally having a Harry James Junior!” Harry’s face was glowing like the sun. Luna's entire being radiates with sunshine. Laughter. Love.

“Don’t get too hopeful,” she sets her hand on her large, rounded stomach and walks over to Harry.

Harry wraps her in a delicate hug. She hugs back just as delicately, frowning when she pulls away. “What happened last night?”

“What?” Hermione crosses her arms, already glaring at Harry. “Spit it out, love.”

“Nightmare. Nothing serious, nothing bruised, no leftover feelings,” Harry tucks a stray curl away from Luna’s cheek. “Nothing for you to stress over, Luna, I promise,” he smiles.

Luna nods, ruffling his hair. “Good.” She steps unsteadily to the couch and sits herself down.

Hermione goes into the kitchen to make them all tea.

“Anything new?” Luna smiles at Harry.

“I’ve noticed things. About Hermione,” he sits down across from her.

Luna gives him a  _ look _ .

“Not like that, and you know it. I think I've learned from you. I know how she talks. And how she laughs. And she said I sounded like you.”

“She sounds like she loves you. She laughs like honey and rain,” Luna nods knowingly.

“I hate that. He said the same thing yesterday,” Hermione sets the mugs full of tea down at each of their spots.

“Honey on toast on a rainy morning. You smile like-” he gets cut off.

“Lavender fields in summer. Smells good, looks better,” Luna finishes.

“Exactly,” Harry sighs happily, picking up the tea. Fresh mint.

“Everything in this house smells like mint,” Luna smiles, sipping the tea. “I love it. You used to smell like hatred and the things that crows find.”

“Mm,” Harry hums. “That’s a good way to describe it. I couldn’t think about things that way before everything smelled like mint. I can’t tell if I like mint or not, now. I love it in tea.”

“Quite interesting,” Hermione sits down gently, smiling at the pair. “You two are so much fun together. I can't wait until little Hermione Junior is running around.”

“I was thinking of Rose.”

“Roses?” Harry tilts his head.

“No, for her. Her name is Rose,” she says softly, rubbing the side of her stomach with one hand. “She told me. Ginny said she dreamt about roses the night before I asked her.”

“That’s lovely, Luna. I’m so glad everything worked out,” Hermione laughs softly.

“Now I’m just upset I wasn’t included,” Harry says with a mock pout.

“You work in the ministry, Harry. Hermione and I work at the hospital. It’s not too hard to see why Hermione found out before you,” Luna shakes her head.

“Still,” he sighs dramatically, placing a hand on his chest.

“Oh! Are you coming to Scorpius’ birthday?” Hermione turns her body to Luna.

“Of course. I've already picked mine and Ginny’s dresses and decided on presents. Ginny is trying to knit him socks, but it isn’t going too great, so I’ve made some, too. Of course, we’ll give him both. Scorpius absolutely adores Ginny and said he wants to be her when he grows up. Also said that about me, then about Harry, and of course, Draco is a top contender.”

“What?” Harry says, real disbelief in his voice this time.

“Well, I've known Scorpius since he was a barely clump of cells. It’s no surprise that I’m going to his birthday, now is it?” Luna shrugs, sipping her tea again. “Miss Greengrass was lovely. It’s a shame it didn’t work, too, Draco loved her like the stars love the moon.”

“Luna,” Hermione says in a voice that sends a shiver down Harry's spine, which he ignores by taking another sip of the tea.

“Of course. I’ll let Draco tell his own story, I just find it to be such a lovely one,” she smiles.

“That’s… one way to see it,” Hermione shrugs. She takes a long sip of her tea.

“Are you coming, Harry?” Luna turns to look at Harry.

Harry feels like she’s looking through him.

“Oh, yes,” he nods. “I don’t think ‘Mione left me much of a choice.”

They continue drinking tea and talking about nothing important. everything important. They’re one and the same.

Two hours later, Luna’s looking tired, so Hermione offers to drive her home. Luna refuses and Hermione gives in to her - she’s never been able to say no to Luna.

“Children,” Harry mumbles after Luna's been gone for a few minutes.

“What about them?” Hermione asks carefully.

“Ah, nothing,” Harry shakes his head. “I used to want them. when I was with Ginny. Then… things happened, you know? I don’t know if I like that idea anymore.”

“I understand. I’m quite the opposite. I thought they’d get in the way of my studies, and my job, but now I feel like I might enjoy having a child or two. It’s shite that things got in the way.”

“Woah, ‘Mione. language,” Harry smiles, pulling her into a hug.

She melts into him, ignoring his comment. She presses her face into his chest and closes her eyes, her hair already starting to suffocate him.

He tilts his head to give himself more room to breathe, closing his eyes, too. He smiles. He feels good.


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is my favorite chapter! It's also the longest.  
> A mention of puke - and then someone actually pukes but it isn't explained - and wine but no drunkenness.

The morning of the party, Harry’s sick. Hermione manages to load him up with so many charms and potions that he’s numb enough to go say hello, at least.  
He wears nice clothes. Hermione said he looks good, so he feels good about his appearance, at least. She’s always been the only person that can tame his hair, so he sits quietly on the kitchen table as she fixes it.  
“I think my nose is still stuffed up,” Harry sighs, rubbing his jaw.  
“You certainly sound like it. We’ll tell them you have allergies and it’ll be fine,” Hermione laughs.  
“Okay,” Harry nods. He glances at the bag sitting in front of his feet.  
“Don’t worry, he’ll love it. Draco, however, might be a little less excited,” she laughs softly.  
“That’s not a problem, then,” Harry gives her a small smile. “It’ll bring us back, right?” He hums, closing his eyes for a few seconds.  
“Of course. Come on, can’t be late. The apparating point is a street away for safety measures,” Hermione double checks that she has all of her things, which is just the present and her beaded handbag.  
Harry has his wallet, phone, and wand in his pockets. He pats them to double-check. He wraps his fingers around the small, textured ball in his pocket. Hermione gave it to him to fidget with when he gets restless or anxious.  
It works.  
When they apparate, Harry’s sure he’s going to puke. Hermione holds his hand in both of hers for the multiple minutes it takes him to recover. She keeps holding his hand as they walk to Malfoy’s house, only dropping it once they get to the door.  
Less than a minute after Hermione knocks on the door, a tiny Draco Malfoy opens it and squeals in delight.  
“Honey!” The tiny Malfoy giggles, throwing his arms around her legs and hugging her stomach.  
Harry takes a second to realize it isn’t Draco Malfoy, it’s Scorpius Malfoy.  
“Hey, Scorp!” Hermione smiles. “Happy Birthday, kid.”  
“Is that Harry?” He peeks at Harry with one eye before looking up at Hermione.  
Hermione nods. “Say hello. He doesn’t bite,” she smiles, pulling her arms back to her sides.  
Scorpius nods, pulling back and extending his hand out to Harry. “Hello, I’m Scorpius Malfoy. Pleasure to meet you.”  
“Hello,” Harry says politely, gently shaking his hand. “I’m Harry Potter. You have a lovely home.”  
Scorpius’ face breaks out into a grin and he laughs. “I’ll go get dad!” The kid runs off.  
“Merlin, he looks just like Malfoy did. You should have warned me. I feel like I’ve gone back and betrayed myself by shaking his hand,” Harry sighs loudly, dramatically, and Hermione’s trying to stifle her laugh.  
“He what? That little-” Malfoy laughs, walking up to Hermione and Harry. “I didn’t think I’d be jealous of Scorp over this,” he smiles, giving Hermione a quick hug and Harry a nod. “Come on in, you two,” he steps back to allow them further into the house.  
“The gift table is in there, the backyard is open… you’re bound to know someone, right? They won’t bite,” Malfoy’s smile is bright and welcoming but Harry feels like there’s a tiredness in his eyes that’s worrisome.  
“That’s what I said about Harry,” Hermione smiles, walking through the house to set the bag on the edge of the table. The table is almost completely covered in boxes and bags, about half of them in the same wrapping paper.  
“I forget how extra Slytherins are,” Harry mumbles, following behind Hermione. “I’m almost jealous.”  
“Come on, Harry, let’s go outside and say hello to people. You can spoil yourself with presents later,” she smiles.  
Harry nods, still following behind Hermione. Hermione would be worried about how quiet he is if he hadn’t been so sick this morning. She stays next to him, smiling when she sees Luna and Ginny bickering by the snack table.  
“Hey,” Hermione says as they walk up.  
“Hermione! Please tell my wife that it’s perfectly safe to sip her wine even though I’m pregnant!” Luna complains, the unhappy look on her face feeling foreign.  
Harry laughs at the look on Hermione’s face and smiles at the ginger in front of him. “Gin, it’s perfectly safe for Luna to take a sip. It’s gonna get flushed out before it gets near the baby. Now come here,” he opens his arms, smiling as Ginny steps forward to hug him for a few seconds before she steps back again.  
“One sip,” she stresses, handing Luna the glass and watching her take a slow sip.  
Luna hums and hands the glass back to Ginny. “How did you learn so much about this, Harry?”  
“Oh, yeah, I completed my healer training last year. And I’ve continued studying by myself. I’m on route to become an emergency healer alongside Aurors. Since I’ve completed Auror training I’ll probably be going on missions too,” he shrugs.  
“That’s lovely!” Luna smiles, cupping Harry’s face in her hands. “I’m so happy for you, sunshine.” She’s absolutely glowing - which isn’t anything new, but it’s lovely when surrounded by people Harry doesn’t recognize.  
“Thank you, Luna,” Harry smiles, patting her shoulder.  
Luna smiles and pulls her hands away, Ginny wrapping an almost-jealous arm around her gently.  
“Hermione!”  
The group turns to a very grown-up Pansy Parkinson.  
“Pansy!” Hermione smiles, turning to give her a hug. “How are you? You look good, love the hair.”  
“Thanks!” She smiles. “Just got it done,” she winks, twirling her long nails into a stand of dark blue hair. “You look lovely,” she gives Hermione a slow once-over before turning and smiling at Luna. “You’re having a Pansy the second?” She grins, pulling her into a gentle hug.  
“Everyone thinks I’m going to name my daughter after them,” Luna giggles, hugging her back. “Her name is Rose.”  
“Oh, good,” Pansy smiles, an almost dreamy look in her eyes. “It’s perfect,” she pulls away.  
“‘Mione?” Harry asks with a knowing grin.  
“Shut up!” Her face flushes and she shakes her head. “I want food.” She turns to the tables full of food, grabs a small plate, and pulls some fruit onto it.  
Harry laughs, smiling at Pansy. “I’m glad to see you’re doing well,” he says honestly, the smile still on his lips.  
“Thank you, Harry,” she returns the smile, patting his shoulder.  
“So what are you up to these days, Park- um, Pansy?” Harry slides his hands into his pockets and relaxes his posture.  
“I’m working in fashion, now. Single,” she sighs dramatically, sparing a glance at Hermione.  
“I’m sure I could set you and ‘Mione up on a… date of some sort. She’s not difficult to please, though. Here,” Harry slides his phone out of his pocket and hands it to Pansy. “Put your number in, we can talk after the party,” he shrugs.  
Pansy takes it and types up a contact for herself, her nails clacking against the screen. “You use phones instead of owls?”  
“Yes, well… I find it easier sometimes. I don’t have my own owl and Hermione’s is often busy. I don’t trust the Ministry owls to not spy,” he shrugs, surprised at how comfortable he already feels with Pansy.  
“Understandable,” she slides the phone back into Harry’s pocket. “I’m glad to see you here and well,” she nods, patting his shoulder. “Been up to anything interesting?”  
“I’m still pushing papers, but I’ll become a healer working with Aurors once I finish the last round of independent studies,” he adjusts the way his phone is sitting in his pocket, rolling the ball between his fingers.  
“That’s wonderful,” she gives a wide and genuine smile. “You should talk to Draco about it, he’s becoming a healer, too! He’s received an offer at Hogwarts to replace Pomfrey when she retires later this year.”  
“Really? That’s good, then. I’ll mention it if we get another chance to talk,” he squeezes the ball against the palm of his hand. He can feel his heart picking up speed. Something about talking to Draco gives him a nervous feeling deep in his stomach.  
“Good,” she nods, glancing off at Hermione, who’s laughing with another woman Harry can’t name.  
Pansy walks over to the two women, leaving Harry alone. He didn’t even notice Luna and Ginny going to sit on a hammock together, Ginny fussing to make sure she’s comfortable.  
“Girls,” a voice startles Harry and he almost reaches for his wand. “Sorry, Potter, didn’t mean to scare you,” Malfoy smiles sheepishly.  
“It’s alright. And you can just call me Harry,” he shrugs, “we’re good enough now. Also, what was it about girls?”  
“They always know what they want. They also get mad when stupid boys get in the way of it,” he laughs, and Harry finds it a beautiful sound. Like the wind chimes singing on the porch of a beautiful cottage near a lake.  
“Yes, they are like that, aren’t they?” Harry offers Malfoy, oh, Draco, a small and hesitant smile.  
“Always. I think it’s why they make such wonderful friends.”  
“Friends,” Harry mumbles, not meaning to say it out loud.  
“Yeah,” Draco nods. “We could be friends, too, if you like. Pansy told me you’re becoming a healer soon.”  
“She talks quick,” Harry shrugs. “She just went off to flirt with Hermione.”  
“Ahh, that’s going to be interesting,” Draco laughs.  
“How so?” Harry cocks his head to one side.  
“She’s told you, yes? I’d assume so, as you two seem very touchy.”  
“Oh, yes, that,” Harry sighs. “Sorry, I wasn’t really aware the two of you were so close.”  
“It’s alright,” Draco says softly. “Pansy also said she put my number in your phone. Feel free to contact me any time you’d like.”  
“What? Oh, damn,” Harry chuckles. “This is a wonderful party, by the way. Scorpius is a wonderful kid, too. How much of the Prophet does he read?”  
“Oh, he’s been reading it ceremoniously for a year now. Quite fancies you, and Ginny, and every other celebrity that he’s seen. He can’t seem to decide who his favorite is,” Draco laughs softly. “Of course, I’m at the top of the list. He told me, so it’s true.” He nods.  
“Oh, absolutely. He already looks just like you,” he shrugs. “Luna said he wants to be you when he grows up. Y’know, I think that’d be a good thing. This mini-Draco will have better parents and less war, but I think he’ll inherit your strength.”  
“Yes, well, we certainly can’t blame everything on parenting and war. The sentiment is taken and appreciated, though,” Draco turns to stare at Harry. “Are you alright, Harry? You seem a bit out of it.”  
“I could say the same to you,” Harry says in a quiet voice. “I’m just sick. Nothing serious, but ‘Mione charmed me up so I look less dead.”  
“Alright. Let me know if you need anything, okay?”  
Harry barely gets a chance to nod before he notices a wobbly Luna rushing into the house and they both follow behind.  
Luna’s fine.  
It was just Morning Sickness.  
Scorpius demanded she sits on the couch and read to them so that she doesn’t have to get up. Ginny agreed, bringing her a plate of fruit in case she needs to refill everything she had thrown up.  
Draco and Harry sit on the floor behind the children, listening to Luna’s voice. Luna’s voice is one of Harry’s most favorite sounds in the world.  
Harry stares at Draco and worries.  
He hates the twisting feeling in his gut and the nausea surrounding it.  
One is from worry, one is from knowing he shouldn’t stare so openly. He’s not sure which is which.  
Nothing exciting happens until they cut the cake and open a few presents - Scorpius’ friends wanted to see him open them, but Draco didn’t want to let him open them all - they’d be there all night.  
The cake was wonderful, the presents were lovely. For a (now) eight-year-old boy, that is. Draco and Scorpius stood at the door and said goodbye to everyone as they left. Harry walked to the street while Hermione said a few quick, quiet words to Draco.  
At the look in Draco’s eyes, Harry decided he’d call him that morning.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i love scorpius <3

**Author's Note:**

> So this was supposed to be a one-shot. Now here we are and I have multiple chapters, oops.  
> I'll be posting once a day - can't promise when, though. But it'll happen, I've set many alarms.  
> Thank you for reading :)  
> Comments are very much appreciated, so is all criticism!<3


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